


A Kiss Under the Mutfruit

by ScorpioSkies



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Humour, Knight Rhys/Scribe Haylen, Paladin Danse/Knight Hart, Party, Power Noodles, Romance, mutfruit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 01:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScorpioSkies/pseuds/ScorpioSkies
Summary: Marcus celebrates his first Christmas in the Commonwealth with his friends.(A Christmas gift for the amazing MrNinjaPineapple~)





	A Kiss Under the Mutfruit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrNinjaPineapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrNinjaPineapple/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Broken Mask](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8369275) by [MrNinjaPineapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrNinjaPineapple/pseuds/MrNinjaPineapple). 
  * Inspired by [Broken Mask](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8369275) by [MrNinjaPineapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrNinjaPineapple/pseuds/MrNinjaPineapple). 



> So this was a Christmas gift for the amazing MrNinjaPineapple that I rediscovered and thought I'd post on here! C: Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Marcus belongs to MrNinjaPineapple whilst Hart and Burke are my OCs!

Marcus’ breath steamed in the cold Boston air as he tramped through the ruined city, a thick blanket of snow crunching beneath his boots. The sky overhead was pale grey, crowded by thick, white clouds that threatened yet another heavy snowfall as the cold wind whistled along the broken streets.

Despite the heavy coat and woollen scarf he had donned over his armour, he shivered, silently wishing that he was warm and indoors. His toes were numb, his nose red and running. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it glowed.

_Wonder if anyone in the Commonwealth has ever heard of Rudolph?_ He pondered, sniffing quietly. _Then again, maybe there_ is _a radstag with a glowing nose… wait, wouldn’t that mean it’d have_ two _glowing noses?_

“Hey, Marcus!” A voice called, snapping him out of his reverie.

Blinking, he returned to reality and turned his brown gaze towards Preston, who was already standing at the end of the street with his laser musket cradled in his arms. Shaking the ghosts of Christmas past from his head, Marcus hoisted Reason further up his shoulder and picked up the pace, finally falling into step with the Minutemen General.

“You know,” Preston began, “the sooner we reach Diamond City, the sooner we can get indoors and warm up. Hey, if it’s not too busy, we might even be able to grab some power noodles… _if_ we can sneak you past Piper’s, first,” he added slyly, glancing from beneath his hat with a smirk.

Marcus rolled his eyes with a sigh, pulling his scarf down and tucking it beneath his chin so Preston could see his smile. Apparently, gossip spread as quickly through the Minutemen ranks as it did through the residents of Sanctuary, fuelled by the flames of Codsworth’s good-natured gossiping.

“I’m sure we can slip by undetected,” he replied, scanning the surrounding buildings. “Provided you lose the cowboy hat.”

Preston snorted, raising one gloved hand to press his beloved hat more firmly on his head.

“Marcus, the day I lose my hat is the day that you lose Reason.”

“Now, now Preston,” Marcus tsked, catching his eye. “Don’t be un- _Reason_ -able about this.”

Preston snorted and shook his head, continuing on towards the city.

* * *

 

Marcus’ eyes widened as he passed through the entrance of Diamond City, his feet slowing to a halt on the icy catwalk. The marketplace below was bright and busy. Colourful lights were strung between the stalls and buildings, causing the snow to glitter in rainbow hues. He could see a number of potted trees set about, decorated with small toys, painted lightbulbs and trinkets.

He felt a tightness in his chest at the sight, an almost painful nostalgia stealing his breath away.

_I never thought I’d see Christmas in the Wasteland…_

Preston halted a few steps ahead before turning around, glancing between Marcus and the market.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” He commented, watching as his friend returned to reality. “You won’t see anywhere else in the Commonwealth celebrating Christmas – well, I hear Hancock likes to throw big parties in Goodneighbor,” he amended, “but they’re full of chems and bad ideas.”

Marcus swallowed, breathing deeply through his nose as he began to follow Preston, trying to ignore the hollow pit growing in his stomach.

The people they passed were more cheerful than usual, though whether it was the spirit of the season or the spirits they drank from their bottles, he couldn’t be sure. Even the security guards seemed relaxed, humming along to festive tunes that blared from the shop radios.

A throng of people were crowded outside Publick Occurrences, purchasing the seasonal issue that Nat was hawking from her soap box.

As they drew closer, Preston flashed him an almost childish grin and crouched down, pulling his hat low over his face.

“C’mon! Let’s move before she sees us!”

Marcus swallowed but nodded, ducking his head as he followed the General’s lead. He was feeling more far unsettled than festive, unnerved by the crowd and overwhelmed with nostalgia, but he didn’t want to ruin Preston’s fun.

When they were out of Nat’s line of sight, he straightened up, watching for cutpurses as Preston forged a path towards Power Noodles.

As Marcus followed the General beneath the tarpaulin, it was to find that there were no seats available, and even less breathing room. Trestle tables had been set out in anticipation of the rush, but they were all taken, as were the stools along the counters where Takahashi worked furiously to fill bowls, a faded Santa hat sat atop his glass dome.

“Damn,” Preston sighed, glancing around morosely. “Looks like we could be waiting for quite a while…”

“It’s definitely busier than usual,” Marcus agreed, scanning the crowd when he locked eyes with a familiar steely glare.

Knight Rhys jerked his chin, signalling him over to where he was sat at one of the tables.

“Hey, this way,” Marcus called, tapping Preston on the shoulder before weaving his way through the crowd towards the surly soldier. As he drew closer, he spied several Brotherhood soldiers seated at Rhys’ table, chatting amongst themselves.

He recognised a few of the faces and felt a smile curve his lips when they greeted him cheerfully, a rare privilege for someone not within their ranks.

“Marcus!” Haylen beamed, rising from her seat to greet him with a hug. “What brings you into town?”

“Power noodles, moonshine and good company, of course!” he replied, returning her hug.

“ _Not_ because of your reporter girlfriend?” Rhys drawled, looking somewhere past Marcus towards the counters.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just hungry,” a voice called from across the table, and Marcus glanced over to see Knight Hart grinning at them, resting her chin on her hand. At her side was a familiar freckled face, smirking from beneath his squire cap.

As Rhys fired back a petty retort, Haylen ushered a couple of knights further along the table, before turning back to him and Preston with a smile.

“Take a seat,” she urged, glancing back towards the Squire. “Burke, would you mind running a couple more orders to the paladins, please?”

“Sure,” Burke agreed, rising and walking to their end of the table. “Better be quick though, I think they’re about to place the order.”

“Definitely the festive bowl,” Preston said quickly, having spent the day dreaming of this meal.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” Marcus added, taking a seat beside Haylen as Preston took the seat at the end.

“Got it!”

As Burke hurried towards the counter, making his way towards two figures, one whom Marcus recognised as Danse, Preston sighed beside him, catching his eye.

“Can’t say I ever thought I’d be eating power noodles with Brotherhood soldiers,” he murmured, keeping his voice low enough that he couldn’t be overheard by anyone other than Marcus.

“They’re not that bad once you get to know them,” Marcus said, his smile widening as Rhys and Hart’s argument grew ever more colourful in the background.

* * *

 

“So if _I_ became a Minuteman, would I get a hat like that?” Burke asked, contemplating Preston – or rather his hat – from across the table, his expression serious.

“Not unless you buy one, no,” Preston chuckled, exchanging an amused glance with Marcus. “To be honest, they don’t make them like this anymore.”

“Then how’d _you_ get it?”

“It was given to me by the first Minuteman I ever met,” Preston replied with a fond smile. “He gave it to me when I told him that I wanted to be a Minuteman someday.”

“Well… you’re the first Minuteman _I’ve_ ever met,” Burke began slyly. “Can I have your hat? I mean, I’ve been thinking about joining the Minute-“

“Don’t be ridiculous, Squire,” Danse frowned, turning away from his own conversation to interject. “Your place is in the Brotherhood and someday soon, you’ll come to appreciate that. Besides, your hat is of much better quality. The only thing Garvey’s hat protects him from is the sun.”

“Also the fashion police…” Marcus muttered under his breath, causing Preston to snort into his bowl.

“Now, if you’re looking for _truly_ superior headwear,” the Paladin continued, visibly warming to his subject, “you should invest in one of these.”

As he indicated the ugly grey hood he wore upon his own head, Marcus had to bite back a laugh and Preston turned his head away, his shoulders shaking.

“It’s insulated, practical, offers moderate protection and works well with power armour.”

“It makes you look like a thumb,” Burke replied, looking unimpressed. “Besides, General Garvey’s hat looks way cooler than your hood!”

Danse scowled, his face reddening beneath his stubble as returned to his noodles.

“ _So_ ,” Haylen began, raising her voice to be heard over the sudden violent coughing fits that had overtaken half the table, “how’s Piper been lately? She’s from Diamond City, isn’t she?”

“She’s been doing well,” Marcus smiled, turning back to the Scribe. “It’s been a while since we last saw each other, though. I’ve been back at Sanctuary, and she’s been chasing stories across the Commonwealth.”

“So you’ve come to visit her for Christmas?”

“Well, I didn’t know Christmas was still a thing, to be honest,” Marcus shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “But yeah, we wanted to see each other before the end of year, and she’s hosting a party, so…”

“So does that make the cowboy a third wheel?” Rhys smirked, leaning forwards to catch Marcus’ eye.

“Hey, I’m not a third wheel!” Preston replied indignantly, looking affronted. “We’ve _both_ been invited to the party!”

“You _know,_ ” another voice interrupted, prompting them to glance to where Hart was smiling at Danse’s side, “if you want to set a romantic mood for the party, you should invest in one of those.”

She pointed to the tarp above them, and Marcus glanced up to find a large sprig of tarberry, interwoven with a small branch holding two mutfruit and adorned with a large ribbon.

“What’s so romantic about that?” He queried, frowning at her curiously.

“Well, if you’re standing beneath it with someone you like, you’re supposed to kiss them!” She explained, her cheeks reddening slightly as she glanced at the Paladin from the corner of her eye. “They say it’s good luck for the couple to take a bite from the same mutfruit, too. It’s supposed to guarantee they’ll stay together happy for the whole year!”

“So it’s a little like mistletoe…” Marcus murmured softly.

He recalled the last Christmas he had spent with Nora. She had been a few months pregnant with Shaun and missing her job, but with her newfound free time, she had dedicated herself to making their house the most festive in Sanctuary Hills.

She had acquired a sprig of mistletoe and they had turned it into a game, secretly moving it around the house to ambush each other with kisses…

“That’s such a stupid idea,” Rhys snorted, bringing Marcus back to the present. “Just another stupid excuse for wastelanders to make out and shack up.”

“I think it’s pretty romantic, actually.” Haylen frowned, her cheeks reddening slightly as she gazed into her empty bowl. “It seems like a nice idea…”

“We had similar traditions pre-war,” Marcus spoke up, this time loud enough to be heard. “We didn’t have mutfruit back then, but we used to kiss under a sprig of mistletoe.”

“That’s …quite a quaint tradition,” Danse mused, regarding the decoration curiously.

“Maybe we should get some for the Prydwen?” Hart grinned, nudging his arm playfully. “You should definitely have one in your room, sir!”

Danse blinked, his eyes widening slightly as he turned to look her.

Marcus recalled his time confined aboard the Prydwen, where the cold and stoic Paladin had offered him surprisingly profound advice regarding his relationship with Piper. He had noticed at the time the Paladin’s own relationship issues, and had wondered whether he would follow his own advice.

Regardless, Marcus was pleased and quietly amused to see the relationship advancing anyway.

“But what happens if Elder Maxson walks into his room?” Burke piped up, leaning forwards in his seat. “Does that he mean he has to kiss the Elder?”

Marcus burst into a fit of laughter, tears forming in his eyes as he envisioned the Elder and Paladin sharing a mutfruit after a passionate kiss.

_Ad victoriam!_

The other paladin – an older man called Brandis – sprayed the far end of the table with Nuka-Cherry, causing the knights and scribe he was sitting with to cry out in disgust.

“That’s enough, Squire!” Danse scowled, his face burning beneath his beard. “That is highly inappropriate!”

“I’m _just_ saying he visits you a lot…”

“One more word, Squire, and I will revoke all of your privileges.” Danse warned, watching as Burke slumped back on the bench, rolling his eyes.

“Marcus, can you breathe?” Preston asked, his amused grin becoming concerned as Marcus fought for breath, still coughing.

“Get a hold of yourself, soldier,” Danse frowned, turning his glare upon Marcus. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

“Sorry… sorry…” he wheezed, biting back more laughter as he tried to sit up, Haylen thumping his back.

“Well, if everyone’s finished,” Danse huffed, glancing along the table, “we should collect the power armour and depart for the Prydwen before it snows again.”

As the soldiers rose from their seats, Marcus rose too, bidding Haylen farewell with a quick hug.

“Soldier.” Danse saluted him, before giving Preston a curt nod. “Civilian.”

“’Civilian?’” Preston repeated indignantly as the Paladin turned away, following his soldiers through the crowd. “Damn Brotherhood…” Sighing and shaking his head, he reached for his bottle of Nuka-Cola. “I honestly don’t know how you put up with their arrogance, Marcus. Especially considering they held you captive on that ship of theirs.”

“They’re not all _that_ bad.” Marcus smiled, raising his own bottle. “I mean, they bought us dinner…”

He caught movement in his peripheral vision and turned, blinking in surprise as Knight Rhys reappeared, a deep scowl on his face. Without looking at them, he stepped up onto the bench and to their astonishment plucked the mutfruit decoration from the tarp.

“Not _one_ word.” He growled as he stepped down again, pinning them in a steely glare whilst simultaneously stuffing the decoration inside his pack.

When they nodded, the Knight swallowed and turned heel, colour rising on his cheeks as he set off through the crowd. 

“Looks like someone’s hoping for a Christmas kiss,” Marcus chuckled, wondering whether the surly soldier would prove successful in his endeavours.

“He’ll need a Christmas _miracle_ if he doesn’t lose that scowl first,” a familiar voice snorted, and a smile curved Marcus’ lips as he turned, just in time to see a small crate of bottles drop onto the table. “Hey, Blue! Preston! You know, most people get power noodles _after_ they’ve gone drinking!” Piper grinned, dropping onto the bench next to Marcus.

“Wow Piper – the whole city invited to this party of yours?” Preston asked, raising his eyebrows as he mentally counted the bottles.

“ _Party?!_ ” A voice yelled, causing them to flinch. “Why have I not heard of this party?”

“Oh boy…” Piper groaned, covering her face with a hand as Vadim Bobrov dropped into a seat on the opposite side of the table.

Now that the intimidating Brotherhood soldiers were gone, other patrons were beginning to crowd the table around them, occupying the empty seats.

“Keep it down, Vadim – you haven’t heard because you’re not _invited._ ”

“What do you mean I am not invited?” The barkeep demanded indignantly. “A party is _not_ a party without Vadim! I am _life_ of party!”

“Vadim, remember how last time you came to one of my parties you brought in those mirelurk eggs? And they _hatched_?”

“I thought you _liked_ fresh seafood!” Vadim replied indignantly, folding his arms. “Besides, they make cute pets – and _great_ stew!”

“Wait – is _that_ how you got Jeff?” Marcus frowned, cocking his head at Piper who gave an exasperated sigh in response.

“The point is, Vadim, I told you that I was never gonna invite you to one of my parties _ever_ again. And I meant it.” Piper added, folding her arms and fixing Vadim in an intense stare.

“Pfft! We _all_ say things we don’t mean when we’re drunk!” Vadim grinned, waving away her insistence. “I will come around ten, yes? Bring booze, myself – and _boom!_ You will have most _brilliant_ party in Commonwealth, yes?”

“Fine,” Piper relented, seizing her crate of booze and rising to her feet again. “It had _better_ be top shelf, drinkable stuff this time Vadim, or you won’t make it through the door!”

“Bah! When has Vadim ever _not_ brought something drinkable!”

“I can think of a few…” Piper muttered under her breath, before pushing the crate into Marcus’ arms and prompting him to rise. “C’mon, Blue! Put those big muscles of yours to use and carry this for me, ‘kay?”

“Yes ma’am!” Marcus smirked, glancing back at Preston. “You coming, General?”

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” Preston smiled, watching him from beneath the brim of his hat. “I want to catch up with Vadim. Besides… wouldn’t want to get in your way if you two walk under a certain decoration….”

 “Right. You just want Vadim all for yourself,” Marcus snorted, turning to follow after Piper.

“Oh – he is _far_ too late for that!” Vadim called after him.

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, Piper Wright’s elbows were as effective as power armour at dispersing crowds. In record time she had forged them a path from Power Noodles straight towards Publick Occurrences.

“ _So_ , what do you think, Blue? Anything like a pre-war Christmas?” Piper asked as she stepped up the ramp to her door, fumbling with her keys.

“Surprisingly yes,” Marcus said softly, watching as she opened the door. “In my time things were a little cleaner and more uniform, but… people loved to decorate back then, too. Even during the troubles, everyone wanted to believe that things would be a little bit better, at least at Christmas… It was always hell trying to shop in the season, too,” he added, injecting forced cheer into his voice to hide the melancholy. “Glad to see retail is still thriving in the future.”

“Well, it doesn’t make Myrna any happier, I can tell you that for free.” Piper drawled as she pushed the door open, her green-hazel eyes studying his face intently as he passed.

He was more than a little relieved when Codsworth – now donning paperchains around his eyestalks and a battered Santa hat on his dome – glided towards him with an elated cry of “ _Sir!_ ”

For the next few hours, Marcus focused on helping set the house up for the party, making a show of smiling and cracking jokes despite the heaviness that had returned to his chest. He could feel Piper’s concerned gaze and fleeting touches, but refused to answer her unspoken questions.

* * *

 

_For someone who says she doesn’t have many friends, Piper sure is popular…_ Marcus thought to himself, sipping whiskey from the chipped tumbler in his hand.

The Wright household was packed with guests, helping themselves to free food and alcohol. Codsworth was hovering around, doing his best to clean spillages and wait on people simultaneously, light-heartedly brandishing his buzzsaw to clear space for himself.

He had arrived in Diamond City a few days ahead of Marcus and Preston, and Marcus noted with amusement that aside from giving the house a deep clean and preparing food, the robot had also amassed an impressive stockpile of purified water in preparation.

_I might need some myself…_ He thought, taking another long sip and relishing the burn of whiskey at the back of his throat. _Then again, maybe not…_

He leaned back into the couch with a sigh, lazily scanning the room.

He recognised a few faces in the crowd; Arturo, Ellie Perkins, Travis “Lonely” Miles and even Nick Valentine, though the detective seemed to be making a stealthy exit. The rest of the people were strangers to him, and that made him feel a little uneasy, even if they _were_ Piper’s guests.

“ _So,_ you just gonna sit down on the couch all night, or are you ready to mingle?”

He glanced up and felt his eyes widen.

Piper was standing beside him, her hair falling softly about her shoulders in glossy black curls. She wore a vibrant red dress that flattered her figure, hugging her curves before the skirts flared to a flowing finish just above her knees. By the time Marcus raised his eyes to meet hers, she was blushing slightly, her rouged lips curved in a pleased smile.

“You like what ya see, Blue?” She teased, folding her arms beneath her chest.

“You look beautiful,” he said immediately, the words falling from his lips before he could think of something smooth.

They seemed to have the desired effect however, as her smile became a dazzling grin.

“Keep this up and I might start blushing,” she joked, her eyes sparkling.

“Do that and I’ll have to call you ‘Red’ from now on.”

“Nah, I think I’ll stick with ‘beautiful’, actually.”

“Maybe you two should head to the Dugout and get a room?” Preston commented with a sly smile, causing the pair to jump and turn around. The cowboy was slouched on the couch beside Marcus, a Gwinnett bottle held loosely in his hand.

Marcus opened his mouth to reply, only for a guy dressed in Minutemen garb and sunglasses to appear at Preston’s shoulder, his face pale beneath his sunglasses.

“General! Another settlement needs your help!” He cried, prompting Preston to sit bolt upright – only to huff and sit back in his seat when he saw who had been speaking.

“ _Very_ funny, James.”

James grinned broadly with a chuckle, lightly clinking his own bottle of beer against Preston’s.

“Just keeping you on your toes, General.”

“Hey… you look familiar,” Marcus frowned, tilting his head slightly. “Have you ever patrolled around Sanctuary?”

“Nope!” James replied, “I have a cousin that scavs around there sometimes, though. His name’s Jim.”

“He also looks like a bit like Lance from Diamond City security,” Piper added thoughtfully.

“Awww, that’s sweet of you say!” James grinned, tapping the brim of his hat. “That Lance is one beautiful man…”

“Wait, is Lance coming to this party?” a moustached man demanded. “He promised to meet me under the mutfruit and never showed!”

“He owes me a drink!” a woman added, pushing up beside him. “ _And_ a date!”

“Come to think of it,” Danny Sullivan added, “I need to have a word with him! He keeps just disappearing from his shifts!”

“Then why do you keep taking him back?” Piper sighed, exasperated.

“Because his Grandmama Murphy needs the caps!”

“Wait- you’re not talking about _Mama_ Murphy, are you? ‘Coz she doesn’t _have_ a grandson,” Preston frowned, sitting upright.

As the people crowded closer, Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darting for the nearest escape route. A slender hand took hold of the tumbler still grasped in his fingers, and he glanced up to find himself gazing into Piper’s eyes.

“C’mon,” Piper smiled, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. “What’s say we get a little fresh air and leave the Lance fan-club to it?”

Marcus nodded gratefully, rising unsteadily to his feet. He swayed on the spot for a moment, the room spinning before his eyes – and then Piper gently pulled on his hand. He stumbled after her, once again grateful for the power of her elbows as she made a path between her guests, leading him to the door.

A cold rush of air greeted them as she pushed it open and pulled him outside. A few of the guests complained before the door closed behind them, but to Marcus it was bracing, and he gulped the fresh air down eagerly.

Outside night had fallen, though the jewel of the Commonwealth continued to shine beneath the harsh illumination of the floodlights. Beyond their shelter, Marcus could see snow falling in a heavy veil, the snowflakes large and glittering before they fell to the ground, forming a thick blanket of white.

He moved to the edge of the shelter, his breath smoking as he raised one hand to catch the flakes on his palm. They melted instantaneously, planting cold kisses against his skin before transforming into water.

“Is snow safe in the wasteland?” he pondered aloud, lowering his hand to watch the snowfall.

Across the road he could see the twinkling lights of Pastor Clements’ tree, just about visible through the drifting veil of white. The streets were quiet now, save for the soft, muffled patter of the snow as it fell.

“Mostly,” Piper replied, her teeth beginning to chatter in the cold air. “I mean, it won’t kill ya but I wouldn’t throw myself down and make a snow angel either… or try to catch snowflakes on my tongue.”

Marcus turned to face her, his hand still holding hers. For a few long moments they stood there, watching each other.

Then Marcus pulled her to him, holding her in a tight embrace and resting his chin on her hair. He felt her arms slip about his waist, giving him a gentle squeeze as she snuggled against his chest.

“Are you okay, Blue?” she asked quietly.

He sighed and squeezed her a little tighter. _Of course she’d know…_

“…It just reminds me of before,” he murmured. “Makes me think about what could have been… I never celebrated Christmas with my son.”

Piper stepped back slightly, her eyes searching his face.

“…I’m so sorry, Blue,” she said softly, and to Marcus’ surprise, _her_ eyes were growing misty with tears. “I thought… I thought a Diamond City Christmas might cheer you up. I didn’t even stop to think that it might – “

He raised his hand and cupped her cheek, his thumb trailing across her lips and rendering her silent.

“I’m glad to be here, Piper,” he said, gazing at her earnestly. “I might not ever have a Christmas with my son, but I’m glad I can spend it with you.”

Piper gave him a watery smile, reaching up to cover his hand with her own.

Marcus smiled back, feeling the tightness ease from his chest as he leaned down to kiss her...

“ _HOLD IT!_ ” A voice shouted, echoing through the streets.

They both jumped, turning to stare as a figure barrelled through the snow towards them. Vadim Bobrov’s face was red beneath his hood as  arrived in the shelter of the trailer, stamping the snow off his boots with a “ _brrrrrr!_ ”

“ _Vadim!_ ” Piper scowled, “couldn’t you have waited like, three more seconds?”

“ _No!_ Because if I _had,_ you could not do it properly!”

“Er… not… too sure what you’re implying there….” Marcus said warily, awkwardly running a hand through his hair.

“I’m implying that if you and Piper want long, happy relationship, then you kiss under _this_ first!” Vadim sniffed, withdrawing a sprig of tarberries wrapped around a mutfruit branch, which bore a single mutfruit. “I was going to use it myself, but who am I kidding! _I’m a wanderer, yeees a wanderer, I get around around around around around!_ ”

As Vadim burst into song, he shoved the decoration into Marcus’ hand, clapped Piper on the shoulder and swaggered towards the door.

“So…” Piper began once the door had closed behind Vadim, cutting off the loud cheers of the other guests. “You uh… wanna share a kiss and a mutfruit with me? It’s only fair to warn you that this is a _serious_ commitment…”

“Why? You want to share a mutfruit with ‘the wanderer’ instead?” Marcus smirked, holding the decoration aloft.

Piper snorted and grabbed his face between her hands, kissing him passionately. Marcus smiled, chuckling as he returned her eager kisses. When they broke apart, Piper was visibly shivering, but her eyes were bright and her face flushed.

She reached up to take the decoration from his hand, breaking off the mutfruit before pointing at the door with the tarberries.

“C’mon, Blue. I wanna make sure this mutfruit’s been completely decontaminated before we take a bite.”

Marcus chuckled, slipping his arm about her waist as they headed back inside to continue celebrating his first Diamond City Christmas.


End file.
